Those who know me well are probably aware of my aversion to visiting archaeological sites. It dates back to being an over-privilidged kid who survived the hardship of growing up with parents who love to travel in Latin America. Of course, the ruins in that area are some of the best sites to take your children! So educational! So fun! I hope you packed your walking shoes…
My first memory of visiting ruins was seeing Tenochtitlan in Mexico City with my dad and sister. I got a migraine and barfed in the taxi on the way home. Other memories are not much better…biting ants, incredible heat, mosquito bites, guides who liked the sound of their own voice, and howler monkeys throwing poop come to mind. I remember a journal entry from one such visit. It went like, “I’m soooooo tired. Exhausted. Pooped. In other words: RUINED!”
I recently had a chance to challenge my phobia and see if it was justified or if the memories had been blown out of proportion by my surly 13-year old mind. I met my family in the Yucatan peninsula in mid-December for a pre-holiday visit. I came from Oaxaca, my sister Monica came from Florida, my siblings Angela and Thomas came from Oregon along with Angela’s partner Jerry, and my parents had already been traveling around Belize and Guatemala for several weeks. I flew to Cancun, found Monica, and together she and I bussed inland to the town of Valladolid, where the reunion took place.
The day after I arrived, guess what was on the itinerary?
RUINS.
Chichen-Itza, one of the most famous and dramatic Mayan archaeological sites, was high on the priority list for my parents and also for my sister Angela who, ironically, is an archeologist (Obviously she found a way to embrace what I could not).
I was pleasantly surprised to find myself enjoying the day, especially with her in-depth historical and cultural interpretations of the piles of rocks we were admiring. That’s not just a swamp, that’s the centote where ritualistic human sacrifices were performed. And the windows of that observatory are precisely oriented to line up with planets on the solstices. Actually, the buildings at Chichen-Itza had been meticulously restored, so it was a lot easier to imagine a bustling city there than in places where the ruins are just lumps in the jungle floor. Unfortunately, the flip side of the mainstream-ness of the site was that you were not allowed to climb on any of the pyramids or enter the buildings.
We also visited several cenotes, gorgeous natural sinkholes filled with freshwater. The ones we visited had steps leading down to the water for easy entry and exit, but it was easy to imagine why they considered them one-way portals into the underworld in ancient times.
Our second destination was Isla Mujeres, a sandy island near Cancun, which allowed us to balance out the jungle and ruins with some sand, sun, and snorkeling. The three under-thirtys rented a scooter to zip around the island. Once again, we found the best possible deal and ended up with a motor bike that liked to backfire so loudly I thought it was a nail gun the first time it happened.
It was good to see my family! It felt like a blast from the past to travel as family-unit of seven people. We’re bigger now (physically) and can’t just pile into one taxi together anymore, like we did on my childhood trips. Some things remained unchanged: like our ability to sniff out the most outrageous places to stay, as long as the price is right. One hostel in Cancun had bunks in the stalls of what had previously been a jungle-themed shopping mall. It felt like we were either animals in the zoo or humans in prison.
Ciao for now! My sister Monica stayed behind when the rest of my family went home, and she and I are still together making travel memories.
Words from Oaxaca 